


Pray

by PastelPunkPrincess



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst and Feels, Anxiety, Binge Drinking, Bisexual Dean Winchester, Canonical Character Death, Castiel Mentioned - Freeform, Closeted Dean Winchester, Crying Dean Winchester, Dean Winchester Prays to Castiel, Depressed Dean Winchester, Drinking to Cope, Feelings Realization, Hungover Dean Winchester, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Internal Conflict, Internalized Homophobia, Love Confessions, M/M, Past Denial of Feelings, Post-Season 15x18, Praying Dean Winchester, Praying to Castiel (Supernatural), Starts 15x19, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, Unresolved Emotional Tension, Unresolved Romantic Tension, Worried Sam Winchester
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-23
Updated: 2020-12-23
Packaged: 2021-03-10 21:20:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,802
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28253820
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PastelPunkPrincess/pseuds/PastelPunkPrincess
Summary: Extension of a scene in 15x19 that should have been cannon in some form. Named after and fit to the song Pray by Sam Smith.Dean, finds himself waking up from a self-destructive bender. As he struggles coming to terms with what happened and his pent up emotions, he prays to Castiel, confessing to both himself and the angel all the things he'd always been too afraid to tell him before, and realizes what all he'd missed along the way.
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester
Comments: 1
Kudos: 32





	Pray

**Author's Note:**

> I have come to see myself in Dean Winchester for a number of reasons, but mostly because like him, I was the first child to a very controlling demanding father who I adored and idolized, but could never please. A man who had always wanted a son to share in his toxic hypermasculine views, and made me fear even the hint of anything LGBTQ+ or having emotions or feelings that were considered "girly" or weak, because of his blatant hatred and brainwashing my whole life.
> 
> Later, when I finally couldn't keep from admitting to myself I was bisexual, I had hated myself and thought I was messed up or made wrong. It took me a long time to come to terms with it, and it was only when I was finally on my own, away from him, that I realized loving myself was more important than his acceptance, and I was able to overcome those horrible beliefs and fears. That's when I was finally free to be who I truly am and explore that.
> 
> So this story is me connecting with Dean's character and venting post 15x18 vibes that should have been expressed in 19-20 but really weren't. Scene named after Pray by Sam Smith which I felt fit Destiel perfectly. Link at the beginning.
> 
> WARNING: Season 15 Spoilers

[Pray Sam Smith](https://www.youtube.com/watch?list=PLreC6ayz3RVfONN2-kMIqZNtm9qEDr7pM&v=hhREiAarjVY)

Dean woke up on the floor to Sam nudging him with his foot.

"Dean, hey," Sam's harsh voice came out worried and confused, a look of concerned sadness heavy in his features as he stared down at him.

He groaned lifting his head off a bottle of whiskey looking down at it, starting to remember what happened last night. Dean felt stiff all over, his joints protesting, and some of his limbs had gone numb.

"Look out," he cautioned as he started to roll over shakily.

"You okay?" his brother questioned.

He made a half-assed attempt to pull himself up, knocking around some of the glass beer bottles he drowned himself in last night. His head started to pound, and he sucked in a breath through his teeth, his eyes shutting tight in pain.

"I feel terrific," he grit out, having wrestled himself haphazardly into a kneeling position, leaning heavily against the table, only to find more bottles.

He sighed after a moment, flopping down to lean against the table leg, eyes shut again.

Sam made a move to help him up, but Dean stopped him.

"Just don't," he whispered this time.

The older man stayed like that, just trying to swallow past the lump forming in his throat until he heard the sound of his brother's retreating footsteps.

His breath came in shaky spurts like even his lungs were giving up on life and barely functioning as everything started flooding back to him.

He knew he needed to get a grip on himself, to be strong for Sam, to move on and live the life he'd been given, what was probably his last miraculous chance at, but there was nothing left in him.

Every last ounce of fight and fire had been sucked from his bones, leaving him hollow and pathetic, nothing but ash and creaking fragile framework.

That was all he had for years, the wall he'd built up to hide all of the stuff Dean kept buried deep within himself, and it had all burst out like a damn breaking, flooding him with unprocessed pain and emotions till he drowned in it.

All he wanted to do was down bottle after bottle till he couldn't think or see straight and eventually pass out, letting the dark empty nothingness take him into its depths where he didn't have to remember or deal with anything.

Every time he closed his eyes, all he saw was flashes of Cas's face brimming with tears and the immeasurable love he had for him, radiating from his entire being. All he could hear were those fateful words he'd never thought would fall from the angel's lips so bittersweet.

A new wave of anguish would claw at his insides like icy jagged daggers till he felt sick, and he wouldn't be able to stop the tears from coming in ragged sobs that shook his chest as he tried his best to hold them in.

If he didn't find some way to numb himself from his misery quick enough, his mind would go to dark places that told him of only one way to make it all stop and to see his angel again.

He knew that would just disgrace Castiel's sacrifice and make it all have been for nothing, but sometimes, it sounded like the only escape and what he really deserved.

He was never supposed to live this long, have this many chances. He was never supposed to do anything he'd done past the first time the impala crashed all those years ago, and he landed in that hospital bed.

Dean had been cursed from the moment he was born to never get to truly be with the person he loved or to love anyone. Everything he dared to love died horrible and bloody, paying the price for his audacity of happiness. That's why he never let himself have that after Lisa.

He wished more than anything that he'd taken a chance when he'd had Cas with him though, that maybe Castiel really did like him as more than just kinship. He had been so damn afraid that the angel wasn't even capable of feeling the same way, that he was scared to even try because he'd never been able to handle the thought of losing his bond with Cas over some lame unreciprocated crush coming to light.

How stupid he'd been.

How could he have never realized before that Castiel's unwavering devotion and long-suffering faith had gone far past a sense of duty to save humanity? Or maybe he just didn't want to see it, didn't want to believe himself worthy of a love like that, especially from something so perfect as Cas.

Dean had tried so many times before to quell his head-over-heels feelings for him, and at times it had been easier, with far bigger problems at stake, to just pretend it wasn't there, but it never completely went away. He'd tried to push and test things many times, but he'd only ever gotten this tension-filled grey area of heavy staring and lack of personal space.

He'd always secretly hoped with the more Cas understood and became used to human actions and feelings, that he'd figure it out on his own, but that all got squashed the couple of times Cas had sex and even relationships with women. Then Dean thought maybe he just wasn't into dick, and that's when he'd really buried things the best he could and forced himself to get used to the idea that Castiel was never going to be with him.

He had made himself be happy with any stolen touch, glance, or look he could get and left it at that.

Now he just played back every moment and chance he wasted in his head over and over and tortured himself with what-if's and could-have-beens until he went crazy with guilt and stress and just wanted to shut his brain off completely.

He'd never know the feeling of his lovely angel's lips against his.

When Cas had pulled him close before he had shoved him out of the way, he was positive they'd been about to do just that, but he never got to before he was ripped away for good right in front of him. Cas had known Dean would have tried to stop it if he could, give his own life instead, and that's why he hadn't let him.

Everything had happened so fast in that moment, and so many emotions, feelings, and fears had accumulated in those heartbeats of time, he couldn't even process it all. His brain just shut down when the pain of what Cas's confession meant would happen clicked for him, and he wanted to do anything to stop him from even saying it, even if it meant never hearing those words aloud. He had gone into complete denial that any of it was happening because it was too much to bear.

Dean couldn't let himself be the reason Cas was taken from them, the reason Castiel died, but at the same time, he had always longed to be his every happiness, be the one that made him feel that way, so overwhelmed with love.

None of that mattered though, because he couldn't stop him or anything that happened then, and he damn sure couldn't change it now.

He found a half-full bottle of whiskey next to him on the floor, the glass cold against his burning skin as his hand clamped around it, and he took a heavy swig. He was long past needing to not feel anything at all.

"Cas?" he called out into the air, his voice scratchy and breaking, "If you can hear me, buddy, then you already know."

He let out a pained bark of a laugh, blinking through the tears.

"You already know."

He swallowed hard, looking down at the floor, his body shaking.

"I've never had.... faith.... because, because faith meant believing and trusting in something other than myself and what I can do, but then I met you, and you shook up everything about the world I thought I knew. You just went and turned it all on its head, you crazy bastard, ...and you didn't even... you didn't even realize it."

Dean wiped the back of his free hand across his face and sniffed, trying to find the words for what he wanted, needed to confess.

"You made me trust in you, believe in you. I had never prayed before the first time I called out to you, Cas. I had no idea what I was doing, but you changed all that. You changed me too. You made me have faith... in you."

Memories and moments started to flash through his head, happy and sad, they all hit the same now, nothing but intense pain, because he started to realize how much more was in those moments and how real they had actually been. It hadn't just all been one-sided, all in his head. The love and caring he'd seen so intensely in the other man's eyes before, went far beyond just brotherly affection.

Maybe he was greedy or selfish, but he wanted to disagree with the angel's last statement so badly, he wanted the having. He wanted to hold him one more time just as tight as he could and never let go, tell him what they both knew was true, but he needed to say it. He would regret those words that had frozen on his tongue, in fear and panic, the rest of his life, however long he had left. He would regret it every day.

"How did you look at me that first time, so broken and lost, and still never lose faith in me, still see someone worth saving even after all this time? Why did you save me from Hell? All of heaven was raining down to find me, but you were the one who got there first? How long had you really loved me before you realized it? How long had you known you did?"

His throat started to close up on those last words, painfully raw and dry now, and he coughed a couple times, downing the last of the whiskey in a burning hardy shot that granted little relief but a lot more numbing. He had so many questions for Castiel that would forever go unanswered.

He had been so scared of his feelings for so long, the parts of himself he had been so ashamed of and disgusted with because that's what he'd been taught and forced to believe was wrong. He still couldn't keep himself from having them though, because they were a part of him, of who he really was, and nothing, not even God had been able to stop those feelings.

"Cas, I love you."


End file.
